


it's blood and lust, little one

by eloha



Series: listen, lover, we will recover [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Banter, But also, Dark, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Gun Kink, Gunplay, M/M, Masochism, Name-Calling, Pet Names, Self-Hatred, Situational Humiliation, Size Kink, Violent Thoughts, possibly, some thrill seeking, very slight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloha/pseuds/eloha
Summary: “And how exactly do you plan on stopping me?” Law purrs, all the intention of claws scuttling across floors, dull tongues of Cerberus licking hellish fire in his veins.“I guess the gun drawn under your chin is lost on you.”
Relationships: Eustass Kid/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Series: listen, lover, we will recover [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840219
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	it's blood and lust, little one

**Author's Note:**

> This is set back when Law & Kid first meet.. could be read as a stand alone I'm guessing, really you can read it however you want to skdjfk. There is a bit of foreshadowing with some of the stuff that's said, might be very subtle, but I feel like that should be pointed out. It's a lot more on the dark side compared to some of my fics, and the first of this series, but I'm terrible with graphic depictions of violence and explaining out just want I wanted to be done.

It’s the soft _plink_ that gets him in the otherwise silent room, one that should be empty save for the person- the person being _himself_. 

Law likes to think he shows no reaction. His own pistol within reaching distance, but the usb is already stowed away. That’s the important part. He doesn’t need the weight of that metal in his hands, all he needs are his hands alone to fight off the muzzle digging into soft black tresses. It nudges his head forward and his gut swoops. 

“Turn around.” 

Rolling hills, moving mountains- that's what the voice reminds him of. Low and smooth and just a tad bit raspy. Law wants to drown in it, but instead he turns around, gracing the person with a smile when that iron follows- nuzzled up against his chin in a sweet caress. It could have been a lover's hand for all he knew. 

And holy mother of Hera. 

He’s positive the man can hear how his heart clashes in his chest, see right down to the aching need one only gets from bloodlust. Muscles stretched taunt under an impeccable black outfit, flaming red hair. Law wants to touch it and see if it will burn him alive. He’s aware that he’s staring, but the other man is too. Looking down at Law like wants to fucking rip him apart, and goddamn he wants it so badly. 

“I can’t let you leave here with that dove.” 

Water trickling over his head. Law could close his eyes right now and drown in it. The threat the man poses be damned. 

“Yeah?” 

God, he sounds excited, eyeing the expanse of endless muscles and tendons stretching thin threads, entangling him. Law wonders if they’re all for show, if he’d pin him down on this oakwood right now and make good use of them. He presses his chin harder on the muzzle, goading the enemy on with sweeps of thick eyelashes, heady arousal laced in golden hues. 

The man’s eyes flicker, uncertainty flashing, slight decompresses of the instrument against his chin. Law wants to cry out for more of it. 

How many years has it been? 

How many phases of the moon has passed since he last felt this liquor of excitement, anticipation; felt the sweet tendrils of death kissing his skin. The fear is foreign to him. The man before him doesn’t know, doesn’t know that Law is allowing him this rush of power. 

“And how exactly do you plan on stopping me?” Law purrs, all the intention of claws scuttling across floors, dull tongues of Cerberus licking hellish fire in his veins. 

“I guess the gun drawn under your chin is lost on you.” So he says. Teasing the raven with the barrel, aiding the aguey tendon. Law cracks a smile, fingers curling over the edge of the desk. 

“Oh, I’m _very_ well aware of it.” 

“You don’t seem to care for your life.” 

Sweet words that hit the nail in the coffin. 

_Dying by the gun sounds just as pleasant as living for it_. 

_I didn’t live until I picked you up anyways_. 

“What life?” Law’s lips wrap into an amused smile, those eyes flickering again. The fire almost snuffing out, he wants to press his lips together and blow, give the wick some assistance. 

“Would you let me kill you?” Incredulous, he’s shocked by his own words. Law finds it terribly endearing, so much so that he wouldn’t mind living for the man. 

“If that’s what pleased you.” 

_I would let you do anything to me_. 

Law is rewarded with another nudge, a compress. Working around the muscle of his memory to not let his hands get the best of him. The nights only just begun, and nobody is waiting for him at home. _You have your team_. But they block the brunt of pain, and that hurts Law more than any bullet can. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying.” Crimson eyes widened; flesh just as pale as that moonlight. 

“Is it not the same for you?” Law hopes so. 

“You’re a sick little thing.” All rich and claret lips perking up at the end, he’s never been the object of such flattery before. 

“No need to praise me darling.” 

It grows heavier now, Law wonders for a second if he really will use it. He can sense the twitch on the trigger, sweat possibly dancing on his skin. It would make the glide easier; Law would know, he knows that sensation because it’s what makes his heart pump, beating life into otherwise useless branching vessels. 

And then it trails, constricting pants doing nothing to hide his pleasure, shuddering at the pressure on the collar of his shirt. Oh, he does it like a dance, mouth parting open as if he’s never seen such a sight of iron dragging choking garments. Down and down until it catches on Law’s clavicle, and he _presses_ , golden eyes almost rolling. 

“Is this what you wanted,” sounding like he’s wanting it too. 

“So eager. Have you ever done this before?” Law doesn’t know what he’s asking, what the _this_ in question is applying to, but he hopes the other man doesn’t care to inquire further. 

“Not really my style,” he murmurs, looking disgusted and Law gets it without needing the explanation, “I prefer to make it hurt like hell.” 

_To make it feel_ real. 

Those muscles aren’t just for show then. 

Law weighs the options. Counts the seconds off with the flick of the muzzle trailing down, clouds covering that sphere, information in his pocket, and finally lets his hands settle on the arm indulging him. A memory engraved in that tissue also, cells screaming out to flick the hammer. It entices Law, gives him the hope of melding into one loose circle entwining with the chamber. 

“I could have shot you.” As if to emphasize that point he locks in square on his heart- his least vulnerable spot. What a shame. 

“Don't tease me baby.” 

And then the thread snaps. He hears the hunk of metal clash on the floor, out of line of Law’s sight when he’s flipped over with such ease. Butterflies tickle his skin, floating down on his back in the form of a hand that binds him to the desk. It doesn’t take much for Law to spread his legs, but knees still kick them apart, fingers curling to yank his shirt up. The firm edge of the wood digs into his hip bones when the man covers his back, bigger body caging him in. Law almost believes in love. 

“Do you do this on all of your compromised missions?” He whispers huskily along the shell of his ear. Law threatens to spill over and become a puddle of arousal, rose colored and tinged with thorns. 

“Is that jealousy Sir? Or do you actually care to know?” A soft breath escapes his throat when he drops more of his weight on top of him, lungs constricted with the lack of air. Law really does believe in love; he might be tasting it right now. 

“Pretty little one like you shouldn’t be rushing into death.” 

Law’s haughty retort gets swallowed up by a moan, a palm spread out over his clothed member, not even surprised at how hard he is. The touch is rough and not his own, but the movements are nowhere near clumsy. It’s obvious the man has experience and knows what he’s doing, and Law is thankful for that. Could fall to his knees, and thank every deity he doesn’t know the name of, for dropping this man so casually into his lap. 

Those strokes grow firmer, intent on making Law come like this. Even without it he could, nothing but a paperweight for the god above him. 

“Don’t hide those sounds from me dove.” Clear cut dominance in the man’s voice. 

Reverence seeps from his tongue because of it, mouth splayed wide open, airy moans tumbling when he strokes the length of him through his pants. Law ruts his hips into the touch, skin glazing over at the heat under his clothes. But damn it feels good, can’t remember the last time he’s been touched like this by someone else. 

“Shouldn’t you have some shame?” Oh, he’s keen on bringing chagrin. Tone degrading and light like it’s engraved in him. Law wonders what he did to deserve such piety. 

“When we’re just getting to the good part?” Law drawls. 

The man squeezes, palm loaded with rejection at giving him release. He has half a mind to ask the man for his name, so he knows exactly what to scream, but it wouldn’t be real. It would be some combination of letters that flow together in an easy lie. 

Law’s brain goes haywire when he rolls his hips forward smoothly, he can feel how big he is even through the layers concealing them. And thick too. He can practically sense how full he would be of the man, the stretch of his walls. Maybe he would be selfish just like that touch on his own cock. Split him wide open and only use him to bring himself to orgasm. Fuck. Law could tip over the edge just thinking about it. 

“You’re getting so worked up dove, do you like this?” Such a rhetorical fucking question, but Law nods his head hoping he doesn’t stop grinding against him, praying he neglects his cock like he knows he’s itching to do. 

Law tenses when his hand moves away, sliding along his thigh and he catches it between inky fingers, tempted to crush the bone. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Law’s voice is dangerously low, even with the cloud of arousal his mission is still top priority. He’d take the loss of a cock over a blemish in his pristine record. “I hope you didn’t think this weak attempt of seduction would blindside me.” 

His chuckle washes over his skin and Law tightens his grip when he tries to pull away. 

“And here I thought you were easy.” 

Law should be offended, _should be_ , but instead he pulls his hand back to his dick, tension leaving him in an inhale at the jerk that follows. 

“Oh I am,” Law breathes, “but you’re naïve-” 

“I’ll eat you alive dove.” 

Golden eyes widen at the switch, calloused fingers singeing on his wrist, wrenching both their arms until Law’s is pinned painfully against his back. Hips draw flush against him and Law whimpers at the sudden heavy weight on the nape of his neck. He forgot about his fucking gun. Goddamnit. 

“Looks like you’re in a bit of a predicament, hmm?” He presses with intention, cock still hard against him. 

Despite the turn of events Law doesn’t have the present mind to fight back, tension leaves him falling pliant against the heady smell of wood polish. Twisted arm driven up hard enough to almost feel the give of bones snapping out of sockets. While his victims writhe in pain, Law’s stomach coils up with need. He’s just giving him so much, threatening to break him, spill his blood, expend the cleft of his ass for relief. 

“I’m going to use you now.” Doesn’t ask, Law almost thinks he doesn’t care if it wasn’t for the pause, a slight shift in the air that leads him to opening his legs wider in acceptance. 

Law moans when the gun knocks his head forward, cock rutting against coarse fabric. His throat tightens around a ball of fear- _no that couldn’t be right_ , but it’s gripping him with eager iron wedging his forehead on the desk. Condensation forms at the hitches of his breath, saliva leaking on the surface when the man’s nails scrape along his skin. His mind pictures deep scars and beds painted with his blood, whips through him like a slash of a knife, eyelids tightening. 

“You really are fucking easy.” The man grits out, pace growing more frantic. 

Law nods his head fervently, pushing back onto the cock. He wishes he were inside of him, filling him up with hot seed. Law supposes this is his punishment. 

“Just gonna let an enemy fuck you like this?” 

“Uh huh,” Law moans, bouncing back as best as he can in the man’s hold. 

“ _Fuck_.” 

Was that awe? 

And then the heat is gone, respite washing over his arm, the instrument clashing to the ground. The comfort tastes like acid in the back of his throat. 

“Get up.” 

Law’s body moves on its own, feet planted on the ground to press back against his chest. God, he feels so damn big behind him. Soft only because of the shirt, strong muscles that could give Law everything he’s ever wanted in life. He sighs when a nose is pressed just under the shell of his ear, lips soft against his skin, a tongue flat on his pulsing point. 

“Stand against the window.” 

And then he’s pivoting them, Law has no idea why he told him that when the movements are sprung because of his own muscular thighs urging them on. The smaller man walks clumsily to the floor to ceiling glass, back clashing with tempered material, and Law is enveloped by rouge eyes, alabaster skin. His hand presses next to Law’s head, other one hiking his leg up, and he’s all too eager to follow the unspoken directions. Law tightens his leg around the man’s waist, head knocking back when their covered cocks slide roughly against each other. 

“Fuck you’re stunning.” He praises. 

Law takes in the man before him, the one who’s so easily fucking giving him everything and not asking questions in return. This shouldn’t be happening. He’s never been intercepted on a mission in the first place, but he knows the last thing he should be doing is contemplating how to get this man to keep him. 

He takes the initiative. Not a care in the other man's mind when soft lips slot against his. Law’s taken aback, gasping in surprise, using the shock to slip his tongue in his mouth. The impact melts into a low simmer of lust at the display of dominance. How he just so easily swipes the wet appendage against his own, hips rocking. Law grabs the crimson locks and tugs hard, tilting his head for better access. 

Their lips slide against each other’s messily, just as sloppy as the roll of their hips, but it’s exactly what Law needs. To feel so strung up that he doesn’t have the present mind to stop until their pants are soiled with essence. It’s damn good, being lurched up and down on tempered glass, held in place by bigger palms on his skin. 

And Law feels _desperate_. Only breaks the kiss to let out a mewl that echoes around the room, claws his way to the others ass, grinding against him with huffs of overextended breaths. Law’s cock twitches between them, dragging the man’s head forward to press it against his neck. 

A deep rumble sends shivers up Law’s spine, lips spread out in a smile against his skin. His nails dig in harshly at the roots when teeth sink in at the dip of his shoulder, biting and _tugging_ , and Law hopes it breaks skin. Wants the other man to swallow metallic off his lips, savor him for days after remembering how Law felt against him. Glass the only thing keeping them together, the most fragile thing, but coupled in with them it becomes invincible. 

Law goads him on with a heel to his spine, gripping plush muscle while a touch flicks devilishly, making him writhe. 

“You’re a greedy little bitch.” 

Groaned against his skin, pace faltering because of it. 

“Aren’t you-” 

“ _Close_ ,” Law moans, hoping that’ll get the man to shut up. 

“Course you are,” all pleased and smug. He knows he’s dripping in his briefs just because of that voice. 

Fuck, Law has never been this affected by a tone like that. Like he knows exactly what it’s doing to him. Confidence oozing from every crease and corner of his body, placing Law in a perfect shell of servitude. 

“You need more?” 

The devil beckoning him into sweltering heat, promising Law pleasure that knows no bounds. He feels spoiled, life given meaning. 

“Don’t, don’t need a lot,” Law murmurs, shaking his head, “this is enough.” 

“Perfect.” Spoken a bit too soft for his liking, eyes just a little too delicate, “you’re perfect angel.” 

“S-shut up,” Law grits out, swelling up in his pants despite the tenderness, rhythm lost in how the man gazes too intimately at him. He wants the bite back, the way it looked like he would grip his neck and not let go, not this- this sweet that’s borderline saccharine to Law, coating up his throat in a wheezing moan. 

“You don’t mean that.” 

Warm hands touch his bare skin, fitting past the band of his pants to his ass, thick fingers keeping him in a bruising hold. Law keens when digits trace around his rim, dry and demanding entrance. His leg threatens to give out on him when he pushes inside the tight muscle, wiggling up to a knuckle, his eyes roll back, and Law lets go. He’s attentive of the man easily holding him up, the burn making his orgasm that much more intense, fabric soaking as Law spills in a heated rush and the man follows suit. 

Reality crashing over him when that finger hooks and drags out of him, blunt nail brushing painfully along his walls, serving to rip out a wail, tears leaking down his cheeks without his consent. Law feels all at once broken and then put back together again when the man grabs his hair and yanks his head back, knocking it painfully against the glass. God, he shouldn’t be feeling so light. Shouldn’t be letting this man do this to him. 

“You’re a perfect little fuck, _Corazón_.” The man purrs and Law stiffens, relaxed nature now gone and instincts on high alert. 

“You sick fucking bastard,” Law spits, body betraying him with a twitch when the man throws his head back and laughs. Adam’s apple bobbing under the action, an expanse of moonlight on his throat making him glow, Law leans forward and bites _hard_. 

A startled yelp is ripped out from the other and Law puts all his weight forward, leg unclasping from his waist to swipe at his feet. A delightful shiver rising on his skin at the satisfying click of teeth, surprise evident on his face. The man lets out a groan of pain, attempting to roll over and Law pins him with a shoe to his chest. His pants are extremely uncomfortable, his own fault he knows that, but with the haze of arousal gone and replaced with alarm signals blaring, it’s easy to ignore it. Law quickly pats his pocket, _still there_. 

“Who are you?” Law presses on the man’s chest harder, enjoying the twitch of his nonexistent eyebrow. 

“What does it matter.” Infuriating smile in place. 

Law drags the sole of his shoe up, pinning it against his throat, finally watching a sliver of fear wash over his face. 

“Right, what does it matter.” Law agrees, keeping him immobilized as he spots a glint out the corner of his eye. 

Hands come up and claw at pant legs and Law kneels, dropping his weight, grinning widely at the grunt of pain on his stomach. His knee presses right up against his chin with the barrel pointed at his temple. 

“You can struggle all you want to darling but you’re not going anywhere until you spit that name out.” 

The man struggles to breathe, clearly, but since he knows who Law is, he should have picked his words wisely instead of blatantly taunting him. Law tilts his head to the side when he clamps his lips together, and he wants to roll his eyes, but he restrains himself, undoing the safety instead. Law wants to frown at that, wonders if both guns were locked into placed while it was singing praises against his skin. A fucking pity. 

“K- kid, it’s _Kid_.” 

Law remains stoic, slides the muzzle along his cheek, placing it on his bottom lip. It’s a beautiful mixture, iron and blush pink, mechanism meant for hurting and two folded parts quivering. He stops himself from pushing it in his mouth. 

“Real name baby,” Law drawls, dragging it across the flesh, “go on and spit it out.” 

“Eustass.” 

Oh, it comes so easy this time. 

Law wonders if he really likes this, loves it as much as him. 

_Not really my style_. 

Ah, yes, he had said that. 

Law taps the muzzle on his nose in warning, “you’re going to count to thirty as soon as that door closes.” 

The man looks ready to lash out and Law digs the toe of his shoe into his stomach, knee jostling his chin because of the act, raising an unamused eyebrow. 

“That’s not a good look darling, do you know what type of position you’re in? You know who I am, and I simply can’t let that go. Blink twice if you understand.” 

Lashes sweep once and there’s a fire in his eyes as they open, willing his best not to blink again, but Law waits for it to come, smiling as it does. 

“Good boy,” Law prods his forehead with the device, “now you’re going to count to thirty, yeah? As cliché as it might sound, I’ll know if you don’t, I’ll also know if you try to follow me, and you won’t get very far. I’d like to think of myself as a _very_ cordial man, so I would hate it if someone like you-” 

Law pointedly drags his eyes down his face, appreciating the parting of his lips 

“-went against my words. Do I make myself clear? You may answer.” 

The raven tries to hide the curve of his lips at the hatred in the other man’s eyes, obviously weighing his options. Law hopes he’s a smart man because it really would be a waste to do away with him and never see him again, oh, he’s already making future plans in his head. 

“Yeah I get it.” 

Law shoves the gun harder on his forehead when he stands, using the man’s chest as a stepping stool. He kneels over Kid, and how much he would love to fucking kiss those lips again. _Some other time_ , he supposes whisking the other gun up between deft fingers. Standing above the other. It does something to him seeing such a being pinned to the ground like this, muscles useless compared to the two guns in the expert assassin's hands. 

“Let’s meet in another life.” Law muses, cramming his leg harder just to engrave that threatening look into his mind one last time. 

“Don’t fucking bet on it.” Kid spits as Law walks away, waving a gun in the air as goodbye. For now. 

“We should meet in air.” Law croons, flicking a gaze over his shoulder for good measure. 

Kid is still pinned to the spot by his words alone, but those eyes. Oh, those eyes are thinking up countless ways to strangle him, ruin him, _fuck_ him. 

That cage imprisoning him as he goes, a dove indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I felt like it may be sort of toxic after I got done rereading it? But like... I want to be very clear when I say this is all consensual. Law has (as you can see in the fic) very dark tendencies; goading Kid when he has the gun pressed against him, as well as some of the stuff he says and thinks. I've been trying to play with my writing, things I find exciting and interesting, and rival spies has always been super high on my list. Paired with this ship I find it absolutely beautiful, and it may be completely self indulgent but I love this for me, and I hope you appreciate it.
> 
> Also, the ending,,,,the 'we should meet in air'...if you read the first of this series with the 'like the air' part then Yes I did that. I am super happy with that fucking reference and nothing can take this joy away from me


End file.
